My son gripped my index finger as I fed him this morning and it suddenly made me think of my Dad and how I wish I would have held his hand more often at the end, particularly when he was here. I got so caught up trying to do everything and I truly regret not taking more time just sitting with him, at his side. It is such a difficult thing to deal with. I was there for him as much as possible the whole time he was sick, and then right at the end I feel as though I left him alone. Perhaps he needed to be alone and I sensed that. He began drifting away the closer to death he got. But for me, I wish I would have just existed with him more. It is so hard. There was so much to be done. It was beyond overwhelming. It engulfed me. And I was 7 months pregnant. So tough. I need to do more to honor his memory. It will help. I should make something for my son. It's a shadowy morning but I feel okay. I have zero desire to drink.
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